


Forget Me Not

by levviewrites909



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Healing, I promise it's a happy ending, M/M, OH HUGE SPOILERS, Past Reference to Death, Resurrection, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia, it is VERY slow burn, tell me if i need to tag anything else, will change tags as stuff happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levviewrites909/pseuds/levviewrites909
Summary: Caleb, Beauregard, and Nott dragged Molly's frozen corpse through the snow for a week to get him back. They finally did, though he seems to have lost his memories once again. Caleb, Beau, and Nott struggle to jog his memory whilst preemptively evading the wrath of the Gentleman and trying to find their stolen friends.





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because MOLLY CANNOT BE DEAD FOREVER. It will be more cute and bittersweet and sweet in general than angsty, I promise.  
> Please tell me if I need to tag anything else! Also know I do not have a beta, so please excuse mistakes.

Mollymauk’s corpse was still. It shouldn’t have come as a shock, he was a corpse after all. Despite this, Caleb felt disappointment well up in his belly. There had been just the faintest bit of hope in his chest, warm and just enough to keep him from freezing over. The warmth was quickly cooling, however, as logic and realism took over and the tiny nugget of hope was starting to chill.

Outside it was freezing. The temple had initially been warm and welcoming, but in that moment Caleb could’ve sworn that the walls had been knocked down around them, leaving them exposed to the harsh elements of winter. The stained glass windows were frosted over, their bright colors dulled by the thickening layer of ice.

The room was absolutely silent. None of them dared to move, for fear of disrupting the ritual. The cleric’s movements were swift and silent, soft and elegant and succinct and Caleb watched in awe. She was the only one allowed to even _breathe_ that very moment.

Caleb decided just over a week ago that he did not like watching his companions die. The initial shock of Jester, Fjord, and Yasha’s kidnapping was awful, sure, but nothing as terrible as seeing Mollymauk’s body crumple into the first snow of winter. It had been _years_ since someone he had truly cared about passed. _(_ _Passed._ _His parents had not passed, they had been murdered. Mollymauk had been too)_. Sometimes he still felt the flames slicking up his wrists, their dried blood and ashes coating his skin. He couldn’t help the itch of his forearms as he stared down at Molly, feeling responsible and guilty and all of these terrible feelings that echoed from his past.

He realized belatedly that he had _cared_ about Mollymauk Tealeaf, that he still did in the moment. It was a startling conclusion to come to when staring down at his _corpse._ To Caleb, it seemed that it had been years since he cared for _anyone,_ and yet here he was, standing in the temple beside people he considered to be his _friends._ Beauregard and Nott stood at his sides, their hands clasped with his.

He stared at their sacrifices, feeling guilt well up. A blue sash, a cracked porcelain mask , a well-loved book. Perhaps he had not given enough, perhaps it was him who was holding the ritual back. Perhaps the Gods were looking upon him, scowling, holding Mollymauk’s soul above his grasping fingers - an awful punishment, sure, but a deserving one. His stomach hurt, he felt he might be sick. His hands were sweaty, his whole body felt sickeningly warm despite the chill.

Nott, to his left, was staring at Molly’s body. Tears, actual _tears,_ were streaming down her cheeks. Her mask was long gone, she must feel naked and exposed. The cleric had barely blinked at her appearance, though perhaps she had been distracted by Beau and Caleb’s violent demands to bring Mollymauk back. All this time Caleb had assumed that Nott was quite impartial to Mollymauk, and that the man, while kind, did not particularly care for his goblin friend either. Nott’s tears suddenly made him think that perhaps there was never a mutual disliking bubbling between them.

Beauregard, to his right, was not crying. She nearly was, though, but perhaps her anger and desperation and all of her other awful emotions had formed a solid dam that refused to break. She did look solemn, definitely pissed off. She looked scared, her palms were just as sweaty as Caleb’s, and she was shaking (though no, perhaps that was just him as well).

He had no idea what he looked like, he hoped it was not too emotional. Afterall, he had barely known this man for a month, and knowing was quite a stretch considering the first week and a half of conversation was bullshit, and the rest was  support, half smiles, joking and teasing, being oh so kind, being protective-

Caleb felt himself choke up before he felt the tears. His eyes stung and his heart felt _empty,_ so very very _empty._ He was an emotional boy, a long time ago. It had been beaten out of him, as did many other aspects of his personality. Mollymauk and the others had been doing a fantastic job at drawing said aspects out of him, emotions especially.

The cleric was still hovering over Mollymauk’s corpse. She was muttering to herself, drawing symbols, sprinkling water, making foreign hand-gestures. Caleb could not even begin to comprehend it. He could not feel an ounce of magic in the room and it terrified him. Surely if it was working there would be some sort of surge? There would be warmth, positive warmth, an ethereal glow, _something. Give me something,_ he thought desperately.

The holy woman looked to be sweating, her copper hair slicked to her forehead. She was concentrating, eyes closed even as she moved about, as if she had complete faith she would not trip. It was all from memory, Caleb assumed, or perhaps the guiding force of her God.

Her brows pinched together suddenly, and Caleb held his breath. Caleb did not recall her name, and figured that she did not give it. They had practically thrown Molly’s frozen body into her arms, desperate and demanding. She seemed understanding and empathetic, yet distant like she had seen it all before. The pity was lingering underneath, not well hidden, like she knew the chances were slim.

She made a gesture then, something softer. Her face smoothed out, she blinked her eyes open, knelt down suddenly before Molly’s corpse. She looked shocked, did not speak. She put her hands out before her, and started mouthing something, eyes closed once more.

There was a change in the room, barely palpable, but still there. He felt Nott shift to his left, Beauregard sniffle to his right. The silence was broken by something, and the tension was _different._

Seeing a corpse’s chest rise was something else, Caleb decided. His heart skipped a beat, and he watched Mollymauk _breathe._ Caleb’s gasp was wet. He heard Nott make some sort of noise caught between a squeal and a whimper, hopeful but excited. Beauregard brought a hand to her mouth.

The cleric looked to them suddenly, eyes wide. For just a second, Caleb saw a flash of something golden and ethereal and beautiful in her irises. Her body slumped forward, and her knuckles turned white as she dug her fingers into the tile floor below her.

Her first breath was loud, it echoed through the temple. It seemed to break an unspoken barrier of sorts, and Caleb rushed forward towards Mollymauk’s corpse - no - _body._ He reached out tentatively, touched the tips of Molly’s fingers. They were still cold, though as he traced his fingers further up his arm, the temperature of his flesh was lukewarm. Caleb leaned forward, put his ear over Molly’s heart. There was silence for a split second, then a heartbeat. Slow, very slow, then progressively faster. His chest did indeed rise and fall, and Caleb watched in awe as Molly’s fingers twitched.

“Scheiße,” Caleb gasped. He looked to Beau and Nott, who were no longer watching from afar. They were on the other side of Molly’s body, looking down in shock.

“I can’t believe it worked,” Beauregard whispered. Her fingers traced Molly’s, the same as Caleb did. “He’s like- he’s _breathing._ ”

“I thought we were too late,” Caleb murmured aloud, though it was mostly a comment for himself. They had rushed towards Hupperdook initially, only to find that the cleric there was incapable of performing any such feet. From then they only had five days to get to the next city, and even with shortcuts and sleepless travel, Caleb was not sure they would make it.

Nott looked back to the cleric. “Will he be okay? What do we do?”

She glanced up at Nott, her face pinching as she made an effort to stand. She dusted off the bottom of her robes and stepped forward.

“He will be weak. A bit disoriented. It is hard to tell how well the soul connects, sometimes. I found _him,_ but it was-”

Mollymauk sat up so suddenly that both the cleric and Nott shrieked. Mollymauk clutched at his chest, nails sinking in and knuckles white. He hacked violently, doubling over as he struggled for breath.

“It’s alright, Mollymauk. You are alright,” Caleb tried to soothe him. His words were in no way audible over his hacking, though, and so he substituted words for a comforting hand on Molly’s back. He tried to rub softly, with just enough pressure so that Molly knew he was not alone.

As the coughing subsided, Molly’s body tensed. The whole temple went quiet, and Molly lifted his head, looking first to Beau, then to Nott and the cleric, then to Caleb. The jewelry on his horns jingled as he shifted, a sound so wonderfully familiar- Caleb had not realized how much he missed it. His eyes were red, practically glowing, and as he tilted his head towards Caleb, still silent, Caleb realized that something was not quite right.

“Mollymauk?”

Molly looked away from him. His shoulders came up to his ears, he brought his knees to his chest, curling himself into a ball so quickly that Caleb jerked his hand away in surprise. They all watched as shiver’s wracked Molly’s body. His tail was stiff and unmoving, just as his body had been moments ago.

Caleb looked to Beauregard over Molly’s form, eyes wide and unsure. Beauregard looked just as confused. She stepped a bit closer and knelt down.

“Molly? Buddy? You’re alright. It’s just Caleb, Nott and Beau. The Mighty Nein, remember?”

Beau knelt there for a few moments. Her brow pinched together suddenly, and she stood and took a few steps back. She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Fuck.”

Nott came closer, not quite besides Beauregard, but just behind her, using Beauregard as a shield between herself and molly. “What? What is it?”

“Empty,” she hissed, her voice muffled by her hands. She wiped them down her face then looked to Mollymauk, a bit exasperated, a bit frustrated. “‘Empty!’ That’s all he’s fucking muttering.”

Caleb stepped closer, close enough to hear Molly’s whispers. His voice was harsh, edging towards how he spoke in infernal, but still in common.

“Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “He is- this is like he said he was, when he came back after-”

“Oh fuck,” Nott gasped. “He said he didn’t even talk for what, two bloody months after it happened? He just went catatonic!”

“His memories are-”

“How can that be possible? This wasn’t the same blood ritual bullshit cult fucking shit or whatever that happened before!” Beau turned to look at the cleric. Caleb saw fire in her eyes, pure rage was bubbling. “Hey! What the fuck did you do?”

The cleric’s eyes widened. She took a step back, raised her hands in defense. “I-I just- I cast the spell. R-Raise Dead.”

“No fucky shit? No blood magic? No occult bullshit?”

“N-No! Of course not,” the cleric said, raising her voice. She suddenly looked a lot less intimidated and a lot more outraged by the very suggestion of Beau’s words. She held up her symbol of the Platinum Dragon, scowling. “Does this look like something dangerous?”

Beau huffed out a breath. “Yeah, well-”

“What she means to say is thank you for what you have done,” Nott interrupted her. She glared at Beau, though her big yellow eyes softened when they turned to the cleric. “It is- he has had unfortunate circumstances before. This is not the first time he was… brought back? He lost his memory the first time, and he’s-”

The cleric sighed. She glared at Beau, stepping around her to join Nott and Caleb next to Molly. Mollymauk seemed oblivious to everyone around him, head tucked between his knees.

“If he has already been involved with strange magics before, it is very possible it has interfered with my clerical abilities. I- Excuse me? Sir?”

The cleric gingerly put her hand out, resting it over Molly’s shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

Molly did not reply, let alone seem to notice that someone was touching him.

“Fucking fuck, we’re fucked,” Beau groaned. She turned abruptly towards the door. “I’m going out. Fucking gonna find us a place to stay.” She walked out the way they came into the temple. The brief breeze she let in was frigid. Caleb wrapped his arms around himself and looked back to the cleric.

“So uh, is there anyway you can fix his memory?”

“I am afraid not. Spells do not exist that can restore memories, at least none I know of. And experimental magics on the mind are dangerous and can make things quite a bit worse,” she said softly. The pity from before could be heard in her voice.

Caleb huffed, a bit frustrated, but he agreed. Spells could affect the mind in awful, torturous ways. He looked back to Mollymauk, who was now peaking out from his legs. A single red eye was glued to Caleb, watching closely.

Caleb took a step back. “I am assuming you can still understand me. My name is Caleb Widogast. I am one of your, er- friends from before you passed. You died in battle with us, we brought you to a cleric to bring you back.”

Molly continued staring. His body was still tense, still shaking. His lips were still moving, silently uttering the word “empty.” There were remaining bits of frost all over his coat, as well as on his horns. Caleb frowned, held back the urge to reach forward and dust it off.

“You are clever, Mollymauk, I know you can understand me. We just spent five hundred gold to get you back, something that this young lady can attest for.” Caleb paused to gesture towards the cleric on the other side of Molly. Surprisingly, Molly turned his head to look. The lady smiled and waved a bit awkwardly.

Mollymauk returned his gaze to Caleb, and Caleb smiled softly.

“Ah, so you can listen. Why would we spend so much gold to get you back if we were not your friends, ja? So I- we will explain later. We need to go find a warm place to stay.”

Mollymauk did not move from his position, though he did lift his head enough to look around the room. His eyes seemed to catch on everything in the room from the stained glass windows to the various religious tapestries.

“You actually have one of those, it is in my bag. You bought it when we were at a festival in Zadash.”

Mollymauk did not show any signs of hearing Caleb this time. Caleb looked to the cleric. “Ah, do you need anything extra for your troubles?”

The cleric held out her hand. “If you do not mind.”

Nott was the one to walk over and deposit thirty gold pieces into her palm.

“This is all we have left,” Nott told her, which was a lie, but she didn’t seem to realize it. The cleric nodded and clutched the gold pieces close to her chest.

She looked to Mollymauk with pity. “I would watch him carefully.”

“Ja, we will. Caleb nodded. He looked to Mollymauk. “Come, Molly. We are leaving now. Can you walk?”

It took a bit of coaxing and a bit more convincing to get Mollymauk standing. His legs wobbled when his boots hit the ground, and Caleb was quick to put an arm around his back to support him.

“Alright, let’s go find Beauregard.”

 

~~~

 

The Lantern Light Inn was quaint, pressed right onto the edge of the city. Their rooms overlooked a small, lone stream, surrounded by green plants and moss-covered rocks. Molly’s eyes kept darting out the window, his gaze held by something. Caleb wondered if it was the moonlight, or perhaps the trickling water.

The four of them were all squished into one of the two rooms they had purchased. Each room had only one bed, which was unfortunate since the night would be cold. Whilst Beau and Nott cuddled up in the bed of the other room, Caleb would be stuck on the floor shivering in his bed roll.

While unsavory, he was not going to complain. He was the one who offered to room with Mollymauk and make sure he didn’t wander. He was recovering from death, and so it only made sense to give up the luxuries of a mattress and pillow to him.

Mollymauk sat on the edge of the bed, closest to the window. Caleb was sitting on the other edge, facing away from Molly and instead towards Beauregard and Nott. Nott was sitting on the floor, going through all of their belongings to take stock of what exactly they had. Beau had been pacing far before they had arrived, and didn’t look to be slowing down anytime soon. At this rate, she might wear a hole right through the floor, or perhaps her shoes.

“This is fucked,” she muttered under her breath. “We’re so fucking screwed. So screwed. Fuck.”

“We got him back,” Nott piped up. “This is good. I don’t consider us screwed at the moment.”

“He doesn’t remember a fucking thing,” Beau snapped, gesticulating violently towards Mollymauk. Caleb glanced back at the tiefling, noting that his gaze was still locked onto whatever was outside. He wondered if Mollymauk was purposely ignoring them, or perhaps he was pretending to be whilst he listened.

Mollymauk had yet to respond to any of them. He did not speak, with the exception of muttering the word “empty.” He did not nod or shake his head either. He watched them, listened to them, and followed their leads. Caleb was hoping that was a sign that he trusted them, or at least believed they would do him no harm.

“Yes, but his heart is beating and he hasn’t murdered us, so I think this is as good as it is gonna get,” Nott argued. She was ever-positive, a strange attitude she had taken on as of late. Perhaps it was just an instinctive way to counteract Beauregard and Caleb himself, as both of them were overtly pessimistic in most situations.

“What are we gonna do? Drag some fucking half-dead amnesiac around to go find the others? It’s almost as bad as bringing Kiri along with us!”

“It is not as if he is braindead,” Caleb said. “He is just unresponsive. He’s probably scared out of his damn mind.”

“I’m just saying, “ Beau sighed. She looked to Mollymauk, bit her lip. “It’s a risk. He could be a liability, he could run away, he could-”

“He will not run away once he realizes that we are...  a safe place for him,” Caleb said confidently. “His is not stupid. He may be clueless, but not stupid. He was incredibly adaptable before, he will get used to things. We are a bunch of strangers offering to feed him and pay for him, right now. His best bet is to stick with us.”

Beauregard looked to Caleb, a bit frustrated. Her nerves showed where her hands shook and her brow pinched.

“It will be alright, Beauregard. Look, all of us are fine now, ja?”

Beau took a deep breath, nodded. “It’s just- it’ll set us back. How’re we gonna find the others?”

“Well, there was no way to do so without getting him first,” Caleb replied. He forced himself to smile, just a bit, something hopeful. “So, we already have our first step completely. We will find them.”

Beauregard quirked an eyebrow at that. “This optimism bullshit really doesn’t suit you.”

“You’re just angry that you don’t have the majority on your angsty side right now,” Nott hummed.

Beau scowled. She looked down to Nott. “What do we have?”

“Well, 234 gold combined. We have two regular healing potions, one greater, these weird stick things that firbolg gave us. We have two tents, four bed rolls, enough rations for another two days of travel, lots of torches, and whatever weird personal stuff you all had on you.”

Beau nodded. “Alright, not bad. Not bad. So tomorrow we stock up on rations. Maybe some warmer clothes. You needed paper, yeah?”

“Ja, I do,” Caleb nodded. “I uh- we should get warmer clothing. For you Beauregard. Mollymauk as well. His coat is rather thin.”

“It will be much easier to shop for him now,” Nott mumbled. “Since he won’t be picky.”

Beauregard snorted. “Yeah. We can dress him in whatever we want.”

Beau and Nott retired to bed soon enough, leaving Caleb and Mollymauk alone in the small room.

Caleb took his time setting up his alarm spell, stringing the thread around the room easily enough. He felt Molly’s eyes on him the whole time, which felt strange and unbelievably creepy, though he did not comment on it. Once he finished he looked to Mollymauk, smiled.

“So, do not go wandering off in the night. I will know if you try to leave,” Caleb told him.

Mollymauk blinked back at him, though his face remained impassive. Caleb sighed, a bit frustrated by the lack of communication.

“You really cannot just nod or something? Yes or no? … Ja, nein, of course you cannot."

Caleb started getting ready for bed. He did not shed his coat, hoping it would provide extra warmth when he curled up in his bed roll. He put the roll furthest from the door, tucked right under the window.

“You should get some sleep. You need to rest up and get your strength back.”

Caleb unlaced his boots and set them to the side. His feet ached and his socks were rank. The weeks of fast-paced travel and emotional distress had taken an impact on his entire body. His head was constantly achy, and his body sore, feet especially.

“You will be safe. I will not let anything happen to you.”

Caleb started unwrapping the bandages from his hands. He rubbed absentmindedly at the scars, feeling the rough skin below his calloused fingertips.

Caleb looked to Mollymauk as he carefully put away what he could into Jester’s bag. He could not even fathom the idea of reading tonight, his eyelidswere already heavy.

The tiefling was watching him. His soft lavender skin looked a bit paler than usual. His form was slumped, far less confident than Caleb was used to from Molly. He swallowed thickly.

“You uh- I suppose I should tell you some things before bed. So you can think about them, I guess.”

Mollymauk did not respond. His eyes were still locked with Caleb’s, which was unnerving but necessary.

“Your name is Mollymauk Tealeaf, something you probably have already gathered. My name is Caleb, the little one’s name is Nott, and the angry one’s name is Beauregard.”

Mollymauk stared back at him. His fingers were braided together in his lap, tail flicking back and forth behind him.

“Ah, we are part of this group of uhm, adventurers I suppose? We call ourselves the Mighty Nein. There are usually seven of us, but three of us got kidnapped. We went looking for them, which is how you died. The other three, um. Jester is our healer. She is blue and has horns like you. Fjord is a half-orc and had a magic sword of sorts. Yasha is- she is very strong. You were close with her, I think. You were very upset she was taken. She was one of the first you met when you came back the last time which is- uh- another long… convoluted story,” Caleb trailed off.

Mollymauk was still watching him, seemingly enraptured by his voice. Caleb swallowed and continued.

“We do not know much about it, even you did not. Before this, you had only two years of memory. You used to be called Lucien, or Nonagon, or something. We thought you were some sort of cult leader, but even you did not know until we ran into someone in Zadash who used to know you. Until then, you just knew you woke up in the dirt. You clawed your way out, and the circus picked you up. Which is where you met Yasha, and how you met the rest of us eventually.”

Mollymauk blinked, then looked away.

“Perhaps if you feel up for questions in a few days, you can ask us. The last time you lost your um, memories, you did not speak for two months, apparently. We hope it will not take as long for you to get going again.”

Molly was looking back out the window, and Caleb sighed in defeat. He had no idea what Mollymauk had gotten from that, whether he understood or had simply been staring at Caleb without absorbing what he’d said.

Caleb walked towards the lantern flickering in the room and turned it off. With the moonlight guiding him, he returned to his bedroll on the floor and curled up to go to sleep.

 

~~~

 

Caleb woke to the sound of moving bed sheets and guttural whispers. He froze in his bedroll and took a few moments to realize that nobody had broken into their room. It was just Mollymauk.

He sat up slowly and looked towards Molly’s form in the bed a few feet away. Mollymauk was sat up in the bed, face in his palms, whispering in a way akin to how he speaks infernal. The accent, while horrifying, was understandable.

“Empty. Empty. Empty.”

Caleb took a deep breath.

“Mollymauk.”

The tiefling startled, looked to Caleb with his wide red eyes. They were glowing in the darkness, his form barely illuminated by the silvery moonlight filtering in from the window. It should be terrifying, but all Caleb felt was concern for Molly.

“Empty,” Mollymauk says, no longer whispering. The word was uttered once, his voice rough and shredded.

“I know, I know,” Caleb replied, though he really didn’t. “Can you go back to sleep?”

Molly tilted his head. His tail was flicking back and forth slowly, like Frumpkin’s.

Caleb huffed. He rubbed at his eyes, realizing just how heavy they felt. “Nein, of course you could not go back to sleep,” he muttered to himself.

“Would you- would you like to pet my cat? He helps me get sleep sometimes.”

Mollymauk stared back at him, and Caleb took that as a yes. He snapped his fingers and Frumpkin appeared at the foot of the bed. He looked to Mollymauk, yellow eyes glowing just as Molly’s red eyes did. The cat tilted his head, mewing as he approached.

Mollymauk cautiously reached out towards Frumpkin, who happily took that as an invitation to curl up on Molly’s lap. Molly cradled Frumpkin to his chest, using his free hand to rub right behind Frumpkin’s ears.

Caleb took a deep breath and laid back down, hoping that Frumpkin would keep Mollymauk quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me on tumblr @smolcactusgay


End file.
